


Love, Ms Claus

by sevtacular



Category: Holby City
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Fluff, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevtacular/pseuds/sevtacular
Summary: Jason writes to Mrs Claus because he's heard she offers her help to those who need it. He never expects Ms Claus to become such a close friend.





	Love, Ms Claus

**Author's Note:**

> This is me self-indulging and writing a Berena version of the old M&S Christmas advert. Anything which was in that advert which appeared in this fic is used out of appreciation with no infringement intended. This fic is also (surprise surprise) me celebrating my favourite Jason - enjoy!

Dear Mrs Claus,  
My name is Jason and I am six years old. I’ve a Mum (called Marjorie) and she is kind (and sometimes angry). I also have a collection of tanks (models, not the real things).  
This Christmas I need your help, because I want something and I know you can get it for me.  
I think people don’t like me very much, but I do want friends a lot. I want to be happy at Christmas.  
Love Jason, aged 6 (but 7 soon)

-

Dear Jason,  
You are a delightful young man and a credit to your mother. I would be honoured to call you a friend.  
Merry Christmas,  
Love, Ms Claus

-

Dear Ms Claus,  
I am writing because my Mum says it is always nice to write thank you letters. Thank you for the model tank, it’s really nice. I also want to be your friend. You seem nice. Is there a reason you signed your letter Ms Claus rather than Mrs Claus? My Mum says that’s a personal question that you don’t have to answer, but I’d really like it if you did answer. I like asking questions.  
Love, Jason

-

Dear Jason,  
Perhaps when you are older, I will tell you more about my life. For now, please tell me about you and all you do and are interested in.  
Love, Ms Claus

-  
-  
-

Dear Ms Claus,  
It means a great deal to me that you have been corresponding with me this year. Today I finally had my last appointment with all of the scary doctor people and they told my Mum I have Asperger’s. Don’t worry, it’s not contagious, I asked (just like I asked my Mum just now how to spell contagious. It’s not been on my class spelling list yet). It just means I like asking questions and knowing about things and collecting things. I think it’s a nice label. But I still don’t have very many friends, even though I have you as my best friend. It’s my class Christmas party soon and I have to bring in some food to share. I’m scared. Me and Mum are not very good at cooking. Could I please have an early Christmas present this year? Could you please send me some nice Christmas food?  
Love, Jason 

-

Dear Jason,  
I’m pleased you now understand why you are so unique and special. I have enclosed a top-secret recipe for you and your Mum to use. It’s for my special Christmas cookies which never fail to impress. Consider it a token of my friendship to you and your Mum.  
Love, Ms Claus

-

Dear Ms Claus,  
Your cookies were amazing! Me and my Mum made them really easily and everyone loved them! My teacher (Mrs Greene) even asked me for the recipe but I told her that it is top secret and from a friend and I could not give it to her. She then asked my Mum (which I thought was rude, as she had already asked me), but my Mum also explained it was a secret recipe. Thank you so much Ms Claus!  
Love, Jason

-

-  
-  
-

Dear Ms Claus,  
This Christmas is my last Christmas in primary school. All of my friends at school say that Father Christmas doesn’t exist. I agree with them. I first wrote to you when I was small because I heard the legend of you helping out children who needed it. Now I’m older I think maybe Father Christmas doesn’t exist. I think maybe you do instead. Is that true? I promise I won’t tell my classmates.  
Please could you source a pair of gloves for my Mum? The airport newspaper stand where she works (and I sometimes help) gets very cold so she would really benefit from a pair to keep her fingers warm as she stacks the newspapers and magazines.  
Thank you.  
Jason

-

Dear Jason,  
You are right. There is no Father Christmas, just me. I help every child to experience the magic of Christmas and would be delighted to get your Mum a pair of gloves. Have a very happy Christmas.  
Love, Ms Claus

-

Dear Ms Claus,  
I apologise that my letter is not at the same time as it usually is every year. Unfortunately, some people at school stole my bag and found the beginning of the letter I had been writing. Don’t worry, there were no big secrets in it and they didn’t believe them anyway. They called me stupid and childish and said I believed in babyish fairytales. They also said I only wrote to Mrs Claus because I don’t have a Dad because he doesn’t love me. I don’t know anything about my Dad but that still made me feel sad. Please could you give those boys some kindness for Christmas?  
Love, Jason

-

Dear Jason,  
Those boys are certainly horrible. You are kind and thoughtful and should always remember that. Most children stop writing to me by the time they are the same age as you, so it means a lot that you continue writing to me and have never stopped believing in the true magic of Christmas. You are an inspiration to me and I hope you have a very merry Christmas without any horrible bullying.  
Love, Ms Claus

-  
-  
-

Dear Ms Claus,  
I finish college this year. I work really hard but sometimes I still find things difficult. I’m going to need to get a job but I don’t know what I will do. I like sorting the magazines in the airport newsagents where my Mum works. Perhaps I could do that as a job. Do you have any ideas? I know you can’t get me a job for Christmas but I would appreciate your thoughts because you are very wise.  
Jason

-

Dear Jason,  
You are kind and generous and highly organised. These are all qualities which are desired in many jobs. Find something you love doing and work hard to get a job in it. I wish you all the best with your search.  
Love, Ms Claus

-  
-  
-

Dear Ms Claus,  
My Mum is really ill. She has been off from work for a long time and spends lots of time in bed. The doctors say that she is incredibly sick and may not live for very long past Christmas. I don’t know what to do. I’m a grown-up now but I don’t feel like one. Apparently, my Asperger’s is responsible for that. For Christmas this year, please can you make my Mum feel a bit happier? I know it is a lot to ask, but all I want is to see her smile again.  
Love, Jason

-

Jason stirs at the sound. It’s broken his slumber. He worries that his Mum isn’t well and that she needs him. Just as he is about to get out of bed, he sees the lights shining outside his window, descending towards the park at the end of the street. He gets out of bed and rushes to the window. Below, he can see a figure striding purposefully down the road. A figure in a billowing red coat with golden hair. Jason gasps and claps a hand over his mouth to stop himself screaming as he tiptoes downstairs as quickly as he can. Just as he reaches the sitting room, he stops. The figure is stooped by the tree, depositing a present beneath it. Upon standing again, the figure turns and Jason knows he is right.  
“Ms Claus?!” He can barely believe his eyes. She’s real.  
“Jason,” she steps forward and holds out her hand. He shakes her leather glove profusely. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last. How is your mother?”  
Jason sniffles a little but puts on a brave face for his unannounced guest. He gestures for her to follow him upstairs, missing out the fourth step from the top because it creaks. He stands outside his Mum’s bedroom and edges the door open quietly. Inside, his Mum is awake and staring at the ceiling.  
“Mum?” Jason asks. She turns to him.  
“Jason, what are you doing out of bed?”  
“Mum,” Jason smiles. “You have a visitor.”

Then Ms Claus is walking into the room and her hair seems to glow like a halo. His mother gasps and tries to sit up but Ms Claus gently stops her.  
“Ms Haynes, it’s a pleasure.”  
“Ms Claus?”  
“Yes. Now, you have a wonderful son who I know you are very proud of. I promise you, Ms Haynes, that I will never let anything bad happen towards him should you not be able to take care of him forever. He has a lot of potential and one day he will be something brilliant. I promise.”  
Ms Claus takes his Mum’s hand and Jason watches on in awe. Ms Claus has just given his Mum the best present even Jason could think of.

All too soon, Ms Claus has to take her leave, before everyone begins waking up for Christmas morning. Jason bids her goodbye and goes up to say Merry Christmas to his Mum. She’s fallen asleep again, as she is prone to do, but she has a small smile on his face. That’s all the Christmas cheer Jason needs.

-

Dear Ms Claus,  
My Mum died today (today is 22nd January 2013, I don’t know how reliable the post service is at getting mail to you in non-festive peak periods). I feel very sad. There were a lot of people here at the end. I was scared. I sat with her when she died and it was like she went to sleep but the doctors say she is definitely not going to wake up. I got told by some people that I should try drawing or writing my feelings but that seemed silly so I decided to write to you, even though it has only just been Christmas. Thank you for making my Mum feel happy at Christmas.  
Love, Jason

-

Dear Jason,  
You’re supremely brave and I have no doubt that your mother loved you very much. Keep me updated on what happens to you and I will try and help in any way I can to ensure you overcome any difficulties you may have.  
Love, Ms Claus

-

She doesn’t know why she’s so invested, but she is. Jason has come to mean a lot to her. And this letter, in the post-Christmas season, well. It makes her heart ache a little bit. Jason is a sweet boy and deserves better than the hand life has given him. He’s kind and benevolent and everything which Bernie herself tries to be to be the best at her job. She smiles to herself as she tends to the reindeer (not that she uses them much for flying anymore, she much prefers her helicopter). 

-

She finds herself at a loose end. Every year previously she’s cared for her Dad, the elderly Father Christmas. But he passed last year, leaving her the sole recipient of the Festive Kingdom. He never saw her produce an heir, only revealed at the very end that he knew she wasn’t interested in finding a man to become the new Mr Claus and provide a future for the family. Told her, as he lay dying, that he knew she has the talents to pass the magic onto whoever she wishes to choose, to share the magic with somebody who she saw as fitting of the responsibility which being an official Claus carries. Now, as she looks at the stack of letters in her hand, she smiles softly. She thinks she may just have found the next Santa Claus.

-

Dear Jason,  
I’ve not heard from you in a while and just wanted to check that you’re okay. How are you? I’ll always do all I can to help you.  
Love, Ms Claus

-

Dear Ms Claus,  
Sorry my response has taken so long. I now no longer live at my old address so lots of people had to forward this letter on to m. I went to live with Alan (who was my personal assistant, like movies stars have) but then he had a stroke so I got taken into some sheltered accommodation which was awful and I had a girlfriend called Lola who actually took advantage of me and I nearly got arrested for committing crime even though she said it wasn’t crime. But I also found out that I have an Auntie. She’s called Serena and is very kind (if a bit disorganised with a horrible taste for lipstick). I now live with her. She said she didn’t like me living in the horrible accommodation and I said I didn’t like living there so she said I could move in with her. She also broke up with her boyfriend Robbie which I think was my fault but he was mean and she says she deserves better anyway so I am not sad about that. I like living with Auntie Serena. It’s great. She has a TV with satellite channels. I still miss my Mum, but Auntie Serena reminds me of her sometimes, which is nice. Now I need to get a job. Maybe I could work with Auntie Serena?  
Love, Jason

-

Dear Jason,  
I am thrilled that you have a loving aunt who has kindly helped you out of a difficult situation. I think I may have an idea about a job for you but I would need to talk to you about it in person, it has to be kept secret. Let me know what you think.  
Love, Ms Claus

-

Dear Ms Claus,  
What sort of job is it? The college careers advisor has been telling me about apprenticeships and education schemes and many different options, not all of which are guaranteed a good career prospect. Auntie Serena says she’ll see if I can be CAA on AAU (that’s the ward she works on, she’s a vascular surgeon and Deputy CEO of Holby City Hospital). I would like to know more though. I’ll keep it secret.  
Love, Jason

-

Dear Jason,  
I suppose it is like an apprenticeship but one where you are guaranteed employment at the end in a very high position. I am happy to come and talk to you about it more rather than through letters, if you think that would suit? Let me know when and I will come, though an evening would be preferable.  
Love, Ms Claus

-

Bernie walks along the street, her red coat swishing in the darkness. She’s parked the helicopter in the local park, an invisibility charm around it to deter any suspicion. It’s February and she’s going to go and meet Jason. His aunt lives in a well-off area of town it would appear. It’s usually this neighbourhood where letters come asking for ponies and television sets and designer makeup rather than puzzles or food or (the hardest ones to answer of all) a loving family. 

As she reaches the right house, she rings the doorbell twice, as agreed in her correspondences with Jason. A light flickers on in the hallway and she can see the shadow of somebody approaching the door behind the frosted glass. Based on the lankiness of the frame, she would guess it is Jason. She’s proven right when the door swings open and there the young man is, his face beaming.  
“Ms Claus! It’s wonderful to see you again!” Bernie smiles brightly at the young man. He’s definitely what she needs.  
“It’s a pleasure to see you too, Jason.” She steps inside, shaking her hair from its hat.

-

Jason cannot believe what she’s just asked him.  
“You want me to be Father Christmas? Real, genuine Father Christmas?”  
“Yes, Jason.”  
“But I’m not marrying you?”  
“No, Jason, love. You’d be like my apprentice. I’d train you up and teach you all of the Christmas magic needed and then, when the time came, you’d take over. Then any children you have would take over too. I understand it’s a huge responsibility and you might not want to take it on.”  
“I’d love to take it on.” Jason states simply. “Your career is the most special career. You give children everywhere a little piece of joy. You certainly made my life better.” Bernie smiles at him. Jason grins back at her, hiding no emotion. “When do I start?”

“Start what?” So engrossed were they in talking to one another, neither noticed the third person entering the room. Bernie looks up and gasps. This woman is gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, ethereal, more special than even the aurora borealis. Jason grins.  
“Hello Auntie Serena! This is my friend, she’s just given me a job!” The woman’s eyebrow raises dangerously.  
“A job as what?”  
“I’m going to be the actual genuine Father Christmas!” Jason says it so enthusiastically and the woman’s face is a picture. Bernie bites her cheeks to stop herself from laughing outright.  
“Yes, Jason, and I’m actually the Easter Bunny,” she deadpans. Bernie decides at this point to cut in.  
“Look, Mrs…” she pauses.  
“Ms. Ms Campbell. Serena’s fine.”  
“Serena, then. I am actually the genuine Ms Claus. But call me Bernie, please. My father was the previous Father Christmas. My family have been spreading Christmas cheer for eons. But on account of the fact that I’m unlikely to have children of my own, I’m looking for someone with a soul kind enough to train to be the next generation’s Santa Claus. I thought Jason here would be the perfect fit.” The woman still looks dubious so Bernie decides to demonstrate her credentials. Raising her gloved hand to touch a mug on the coffee table, it instantly becomes a beautifully gift-wrapped package, ready to be placed under a tree. Both auntie and nephew wear looks of astonishment.  
“Will I be able to do that too?” Jason asks, awe written all over his phase.  
“Yes, Jason. You will. It’ll take a number of years and you’ll have to keep your power hugely secret but you’ll have it. I technically shouldn’t have done that but since you’re likely my heir I think it’s probably allowed.”

Jason looks at his aunt and then at Bernie.  
“When do I start?”

-

It takes a number of years with Bernie flying Jason (and Serena, she always likes to accompany Jason on these trips) to her chilly abode, but he becomes more and more adept. Bernie’s heart soars as his kindness begins to grow even more pronounced under her tutelage. 

As time marches on further, blizzards rage and reindeers prance, Bernie grows closer and closer to Serena. The woman who was originally frostier than the icicles permanently growing on Bernie’s roof turns out to be a warm, witty woman who is more comforting than any log fire Bernie could ever conjure up. Her father had said she might find a wonderful woman to share the remainder of her days with. Bernie things she might just have. 

-

It’s a year unlike no other. This year, Bernie feels Jason is ready to be taken on his first Christmas Eve mission. He’s been training all year, forever spilling with festive joy. They check the security of a world’s worth of presents and prepare to speed round the Earth at an unholy pace, only made possible by the enchanted Christmas magic they possess. As they prepare to climb aboard the helicopter, they turn to see Serena stood on the balcony of the log cabin. She’s booked the time off work, said she’d wait up to check they were both okay. Sweet of her to wait, but unnecessary. She hugs Jason tightly then turns to Bernie. Before Bernie knows quite what has happened, Serena has pressed a soft kiss to her lips.  
“Hurry back, Ms Claus,” she whispers, her lips millimetres from Bernie’s, her breath clouding in the cold and tickling Bernie’s face. Perhaps, just as Jason is ready to see the Christmas delivery in action, perhaps Serena is ready to stop dancing around the chemistry she’s been brewing with Bernie these past few years, sweeter than any Christmas cookie batch ever could be. Bernie smiles at Serena softly, then turns to join Jason. They have magic to weave.

-

Bernie and Jason arrive back at her base approximately 24 hours after they first set off. It’s a tough old challenge, doing the festive deliveries, but it’s always worth it to know every single child will have something to smile about on Christmas morning. Bernie hops out onto the snow, guiding a bone-tired Jason with her. The ability to stay away for such long periods of time is one which only possibly doctors, nurses and other emergency personnel have to have. She guides Jason into her home and onto the spare bed. He’ll eventually pick up the skill. As it is, he did brilliantly. His organisation and enthusiasm for mince pies powering them through the majority of the trip. 

As she shuts the door softly behind him, Bernie pads to her own room, where the glow of a lamp creeps around the edges of the ajar door. Bernie smiles and gently pushes it open. Lay on her bed, curled up inside her covers, is Serena. Bernie wonders how long Serena stayed up trying to wait for them before she succumbed to sleep. Bernie can’t find it in her to care. She slips off her heavy outfit and slides into bed in her underwear. As if sensing the dip in the mattress, Serena shuffles backwards in her slumber, tangling her feet with Bernie’s.

-

It is a truth universally acknowledge that for all she is Ms Claus, Bernie never really sees much of Christmas Day. She spends it sleeping (more and more with every year as her body gets older and wearier). It is Boxing Day when Bernie has her small festive gathering. They used to be large, family affairs, until they were just Bernie and Father Christmas and then just Bernie. This year’s different.

Bernie stirs late Christmas Day and registers that something is tickling her nose. As she awakes, she realises that Serena’s head is tucked beneath hers. Bernie smiles and pulls the other woman closer. Serena snuggles closer and snuffles and then opens her eyes sleepily. Bernie decides it’s time she returned something Serena gave her earlier and leans down to press their lips together.

They may be awake, but they don’t leave Bernie’s bed until much, much later.

-

The log fire crackles and pops in the grate as they sit eating their Christmas dinner. It’s Boxing Day, or, as it has long been known in Bernie’s family, Christmas Day for Clauses. The food is delicious and the atmosphere merry. Jason, having rested, is regaling their Christmas Eve adventures piece by piece. Bernie smiles round her turkey at his joy. She can remember when she was taken on her first ever Christmas Eve delivery. She had been in awe at the many places she saw across the world, knew she’d never tire of travelling to each and every one of the places year upon year upon year. 

Later, as Bernie snuggles next to Serena and Jason sits in the armchair by the fire, Bernie thinks that she’s possibly given herself the best present of all: A family.

-

Dear Mrs Claus and Mrs Claus,  
This year for Christmas I would really really like to learn how to be magic. Daddy says one day I will learn and that I’m already very special, but I think I’m big enough to learn now so thought I would ask you instead. Nana Bunny, I know you taught my Daddy and are still the number one Claus so I think, as the Head of Christmas, you should make me your assistant. Pretty please? If not, for Christmas please may I have a new storybook? I’m writing you a letter because that way it’s official and there’s proof I have written a big letter all by myself (with some help from Mummy).  
Lots of love and Merry Christmas,  
Guinevere Haynes, aged 6 (but 7 soon)

-

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Christmas gift to the whole of the Berena fandom. You're all amazing. Merry Christmas, everyone.


End file.
